Oh Holy One, you come to us
in our need, in our mess.
To this low, rough manger, you come.
In the cesspool of pandemic and political distress
and racism and climate crisis, you come.
To people who are weary and depressed you come.
To those who are broken, to those who have lost,
to storms and to bullets, you come.
To people who are tired of fighting, weary of insisting,
exhausted from trying, you come.
To those who don’t have the strength
to lift up their heads for the dawn,
but gaze at the floor to gather the strength
to survive these times—you come.
We are amazed and grateful.
For this gift—not that the vision is fulfilled,
but that you come—we give thanks.
That you come to share this struggle,
our sorrow and even sometimes our despair,
to hurt and to hope with us—we rejoice.
Come, Beloved, come!